A Taste of La Dolce Vite in Versailles

“La vita è una combinazione di magia e pasta.” (Life is a combination of magic and pasta.) Such was the opinion of a man who should know, in Federico Fellini. And the great Italian director would surely have savored the slice of life, understood in those terms, now available in the heart of Woodford County, Ky. Because Vallozzi's restaurant, which recently opened in downtown Versailles, does not confine its excellence solely to the kitchen. This is a house of true pedigree and style, surely destined to become an institution of the Bluegrass, both for those blessed to live here and those of us who must settle for regular visits from farther afield.

For while it may be new to this part of the world, there is nothing tentative or experimental about what they're doing at Vallozzi's in Versailles. Those clients whose own work is predicated on a faith in the “page” will be reassured to know themselves to be in the hands of a family whose flair for the restaurant business, one barely less competitive than the horse trade, has been tried and trusted across three generations.

Meatballs, creamy polenta, ricotta, balsamic glaze | Catlyn Treadway photo

Julian Vallozzi's grandmother started selling homemade gnocchi out of her Pennsylvania basement 69 years ago, prompting such demand that she soon opened a small restaurant in Latrobe. Assisted by her son Ernie, Julian's father, they moved to premises at Greenburg that have become a local byword for authentic Italian cuisine across four decades. Julian has already successfully expanded the family firm into downtown Pittsburgh and last September, having long been enchanted by the locality and made good friends here, contributed to the increasing culinary vitality of the Bluegrass by converting what was once the police station in the historic center of Versailles.

And there is a corresponding confidence of touch to everything about this place: an eye for the magic, that is, as well as the pasta. Be in no doubt, Vallozzi and his team have absolutely prioritized “la cucina” as the principal object of the exercise. My companions, rotating every dish to be sampled as suited, scored every forkful with high or full marks across the board. But of course even this is only half the battle, when getting the rest of the experience wrong could unravel any amount of good work in the kitchen. As it is, the quality of the fare is admirably complemented by the ambience.

The space is intimate but uncluttered. The service nailed that precarious equilibrium between attention and intrusion: ever alert and obliging, but with none of the ceremonious falsity that can stifle an atmosphere in more pompous settings. And actually much the same could be said of the music. I shouldn't think many people even notice it, but that's because it is not only scrupulously unobtrusive but also immaculately selected. At least that's how it struck me, the evening we were there, as one of a diminishing number who might recognise Paul Desmond and Gerry Mulligan from their own record collections!

Fettuccine, venetian lamb ragu, roasted tomatoes, zucchini, gremolata | Catlyn Treadway photo

Yes, I know: records are not how most people “consume” (ugh) their music nowadays, but perhaps that also indicates the kind of person, this reviewer included, for whom Vallozzi's can push at an open door. Because this is a venue with a nice touch of the old school. Not, as already indicated, in terms of formality but simply insofar as it's quite hard, nowadays, to find what used to be called “class”. That word can mean different things in different contexts. Suffice to say that when you're out with a bunch of nice people for an evening, it means that the vibe should be relaxed and unhurried, while assuring you that your needs will be observed and served to the highest standards.

Of course, those needs start with what is set down between your knife and fork. And let's get one thing out there right away. You're not going to go home from Vallozzi's hungry. At the same time, however, they have mastered the perennial challenge of Italian cuisine, substantial as it tends to be. The art is to untether the volume by tenderness and flavor. (It's rather similar to the way Renaissance architecture gives a delicacy and lightness to stone, inherently the heaviest of materials.) Pasta dishes are the most basic measure of that aspiration, and here there's no mistaking a generationally honed instinct to float it from the plate.

The stakes quality, in the pasta, naturally traces to the fillings and sauces. Of the several sampled by our party, the roasted pork agnolotti ($32) probably reached the winner's circle, its black garlic and truffle cream achieving a critical smoky lightness. (Much as a truffle hound would enjoy a median consistency—springy, not soggy or dry—in bounding along the forest floor!)

The seafood similarly maintained a balance in its full-on combinations—try ziti ($34) with shrimp, octopus, mussels and smoked puttanesca, or lobster risotto ($50) with shrimp, scallop and roasted red pepper—while the pappardelle Bolognese ($30) met a more basic challenge in allowing the heavy livestock (beef, veal and pork) to stroll free. Next time I'm definitely going to try the roasted beet and goat cheese caramelle ($26), with what sounds a dashing combination of fennel, saffron butter and mint.

But I'm presenting this all out of sequence, because we tried to do this the Italian way and treat the pasta as an intermediate dish between antipasti and main courses. And the opening salvo from the kitchen had been outstanding. The run for the roses here was octopus on grilled potatoes, charred shishitos, salsa rossa and chickpea puree ($20). This dish may not be for the fainthearted but it was superbly tender and given full rein by its supporting flavors. But the antipasti were black-type all the way. Arancini ($14), which can be heavy and greasy in the wrong hands, were spot on; calamari ($20) gave a pleasing way out for those daunted by the octopus; and the steak tagliata ($20) was almost rare and tender enough to ingest with a straw, brilliantly set against arugula, grilled sweet potatoes and, the coup de grace, a sunny egg!

The more wholesome of our party fought back against all this flat-out indulgence with a couple of salads: the chopped ($12)—comprising  pepperoncini, red onion, garbanzo beans, tomato, cucumber and Italian dressing—was applauded as fresh and crisp, and there was a warm endorsement for the fruity kick of dried cranberries in the kale ($12) with carrots, cauliflower, almonds, feta, albeit the quinoa content evidently proved a little more elusive than the tomato vinaigrette.

Sea scallops, butternut puree, spaetzle, apples, golden raisins | Catlyn Treadway photo

But you can see the problem brewing here. After all this on the first circuit, generously served and flavored as it was, few retained the stamina for mounting an assault on the deeper menu. The pizzas are apparently celebrated (though modestly priced at $14 to $16) and the steak tagliata antipasto gave total confidence that any bistecca would weigh in at full value ($65), whether 8oz center cut CAB filet mignon or 16oz prime strip. We will leave for another time the chicken saltimbocca ($32), promising as it sounds of a variation on the customary vitello; fans of the latter, meanwhile, can try to knock it out of the park with a 16oz veal chop parmesan ($70) with spaghetti, red sauce and provolone.

Rallying gamely, however, we did share a couple of dishes that confirmed a similar expertise for surf as for turf: scallops ($52) sweetly elevated by butternut squash puree, spaetzle, apples and golden raisins; and salmon ($33) likewise made to sing by fennel, pancetta, brussels sprouts and fregola.

And then, heroically, one or two in the party demonstrated the truth of the old principle that appetite can always renew for dessert. Their choice of those good old stand-bys, cannolis ($10) and tiramisu ($10), demonstrably met the standards of all that had gone before—with notes of subtlety reported, in both cases, within the necessary richness.

Steak tagliata wtih arugula and fried egg | Catlyn Treadway photo

Those may be staple desserts, but overall this felt like a strikingly ambitious “racecard”, its range matched by elements of uncommon creativity and innovation. That might feel like a gamble, in a small midwestern town, but of course the Thoroughbred brings plenty of cosmopolitan palates to this neighborhood; while it has been a work of decades for your hosts to hone a formula that could work anywhere. It was good to see Vallozzi's Versailles so busy on a midweek in February, due reward for the partners—who include a couple of familiar faces in our community, in Charlie O'Connor (of Ashford) and Jon Rabinowitz (valued service on the KHRC)—for their vision in introducing a top-class restaurant to a neighborhood where business is so often mixed with pleasure.

If our own party somewhat overshot in ordering, then Vallozzi's will just have to become a regular so that we can work our way through the options at a more temperate rate. Because if you could only come here once, you might decide that Fellini had named one of his most famous films—8½—for the minimum number of dishes to which any single diner could reduce such an extensive and interesting menu.

Vallozzi's, 108 Court Street, Versailles, KY 40383. (859) 682-5120. www.vallozzis.com